Something I Can Never Have
by breaking ash
Summary: (Formerly Courteney Fan) It's a MC, RJ story. Monica and Rachel are 17 and 19, best friends. Chandler and Joey are 33 and 35, best friends, and stars on a hit tv show. When they meet all hell breaks loose.
1. And it starts

**Alright guys here's my latest. This chapter and the next 3 were a collaberation with Pink Bubblez. After that it'll be all me. I know i haven't posted in a while, on anything, but for any of you who've read Last Flight Out, i do have three more chapters written on that but they're on my computer (i'm on a friends) and it was broken. I am trying to get it fixed now so as soon as i do i'll get back to posting on Last Flight Out. Until then, this story will have to do. Make sure to review, i can't know what you guys think unless you do.**

**If you must, flame until your hearts content, flames only fuel me.**

**P.S. Ok, some people have told me that this chapter is confusing, the best way i can explain it is that during some parts it's Monica and Rachel talking to a therapist in Central Park, they're talking about what happened between them, Joey and Chandler. During the other parts it's what happened as it was happening... i dont know if that helps but i hope so.**

**F.R.I.E.N.D.S**

**Something I Can Never Have**

Blue, only the lightest of blue, like a glacier. Cold and lonely, her eyes reflected every ounce of sadness in the world, every bit of hunger, every bit of pain. The only thing that suffered an identical amount was that of the second set of icy blues beside hers.

"Rachel is this difficult to talk about?"

Breath taking almost when those glaciers locked their focus on you. Almost shocking to know that there's still life behind them. Both sets beamed forward, waiting for a response? Or waiting for answers?

"Is this difficult to talk about? ... No, this isn't difficult to talk about, it's difficult to live. I cant really tell you how it ended"

She passed a glance to her dark haired friend sitting beside her. They exchanged meek supportive smiles. She sighs and upward glance to the sky while pushing her sun colored hair behind her ear and continues to speak, both sets of icy blues gaze forward.

"I guess we really can't tell you the end, until you know the beginning--"

"We thought it was the best thing to happen to us when we met them." Sweeping her dark hair off her face, as she spoke through smoke filled lungs. "We couldn't have been more wrong."

The man perched himself adjacent to them, expecting. He sat with a comfortable and inviting posture, trying to make them more comfortable. Or just trying to open them.

"And why do you think you were wrong Monica?" He studied her expressions and watched them shift, and felt the air grow thicker. Testing her was never one of his favorite duties of this job, but this was a job and it would get done.

"Talking about them, even thinking about them its never easy. It's hard to be ready to talk about it." Rachel spat out saving her friend from his interrogation. Something she had grown accustomed too.

"We aren't ready, we never will be. . . . " Monica shot out defending herself from this man and everything he stood for. Her eyes met with that of her friends silently preparing her, a secret signal for Rachel to take over.

She never was the one for talking, probably never will be either. It was harder on Rachel, talking for the both of them, but it was something she owed her friend. Even saving Monica a few moments of not having to feel meant nearly as much as saving her life.

She filled her lungs with the coffee bean thick air letting it fill her and leave her empty again and again. Her glazed over eyes lost in themselves in the almost beautiful pattern of smoke emitted from the cigarette burning idly in the ash tray inches away from her hand, contemplating for only seconds whether it was hers or Monica's before deciding she didn't care, and took it anyway.

"But we can offer you this ... " putting the cigarette to her lips, hoping to gain something from it. Strength. Power. Numbness.

Their icy glances glazed over in thought. Thoughts of a memory, a memory of them.

----------------------------------------------------

Unaware of the time, and seeming to not care about the concept of it either way, she ran her fingers over a sequence of buttons on the ever so complicated, ever so loud cappuccino machine. Her eyes squinted together while the giant beast hummed to life, screaming and feeding stereotype the horrid scene of coffee house 'trendies' all around her.

At possibly the worst job she had ever had she went about her closing break duties in a manner that could send shivers down countless spines at the department of health. But then again what did they know? She had worked there long enough to know that you don't really have to change coffee filters between flavors. That part was optional..

She smirked at how clever she was and cursed that it always happened when no one was around to share in her genius.

"Oh God do I even want to know what you're thinking about?" She stood in front of the counter with an impatient hand on her hip dressed to kill, wearing sunglasses that could only be described as 'old Hollywood' a.k.a. the kind that took up half your face but looked glamorous just the same.

"Just closing for my break ... come on move you know how Gunther freaks when you stand in front of the counter."

"I hauled my ass here for your break? ... Ugh so not worth it" Plopping her purse on the counter sifting through the contents, spilling them everywhere in the process.

Instinctively Rachel sat a caramel frappe in front of her. "I'm sorry hauled what? And you're how many minutes late?" adding the theatrics of looking at a watch on her wrist that wasn't there, everything had to have a humorous drama to it when it came to Rachel.

"Don't even start with me" she said finding her impossibly tiny tube of chap-stick only to forget to put it on. "I have had the shittiest day in the entire history of shitty days so don't even start with me"

"Well you're too late you can't go with me"

"UH! Why not?"

"Because Gunther no longer feels like teenage charity now, and because you're 20 minutes late and that makes me 20 minutes late and this is a big deal and-"

"Ok wow didn't ask to hear that much, so what its a big deal for him to put his dick away for the 5 minutes you're out of his sight? Put your boobs in his face he'll let me go." Without losing a step or slurring a word she grabs a container of gum for sale on the rack next to her and jams it into her purse with one fluid movement as if the gums sole purpose was to end up unpaid for in her purse.

"Can you not act like you right now? Could you not shoplift when my boss is here . . . or could you at least get enough for me." She grabbed an extra pack of gum and shoved it in Monica's purse giving a nearby customer a sly wink.

"You're going to pay for it later aren't you?" She said helping herself to a piece of the stolen gum.

"Well i cant really steal it you know, i have to come back here tomorrow you don't"

"Yes, I do you make me come here everyday. . . And what the hell are you doing?"

"What the hell's it look like I'm doing?" struggling against the weight of four of the largest cups of coffee she had ever come across not to mention the balancing act of 2 extra cups on top of them. "Be here when I get back? maybe ill steal you something that I cant pay for later?"

"Where are you running off too, are those stolen goods I see in your granny basket?" She seemed intrigued finally her teachings have begun to wear off on this poor soul. Though you couldn't tell by the mini skirt in November and the basket was too much for her eyes she had to look away.

"Making a run to the Park, there's an indie crew there who according to Gunther are 'desperately awaiting my arrival' so I must run" She blew a kiss in the air towards Monica's disgusted look.

"Indie crew?" talking through a mouthful of stolen blueberry muffin. "Not the crew from L.A, who thankfully isn't here yet, because id hate to have to kick your ass if it were them."

"Crew from L.A.? Well, they are from L.A. but Gunther said they were some independent thing." pinching off a bits of blueberry for herself.

Her eyes narrowed, sending Rachel a suspicious glance "Are you sure?

"That it's indie? Yeah, why?" she looked over the tray making sure everything was there.

"No reason. How long are you gonna be?"

"Not sure, wait for me?"

"Well i cant wait forever, i do have a life you know"

Rachel picked up the tray watching as it toppled around wondering how she was ever gonna make it through Central Park balancing this and a basket of muffins "Really? Because I was under the impression you hung out in coffee shops all day."

"Fuck you I do other stuff." She said taking the last bite of muffin, watching Rachel trying to walk and balance the tray that was bound to tip over any minute.

"That's ok, I don't need any help," trying to open the door with her foot, the tray almost falling twice. "Just ignore me."

Monica smirked, while taking a sip of her coffee. "You're doing fine."

Seconds later Gunther came to her rescue, almost tripping over himself as he ran to the door to save his love.

"God could that guy be more of a pedophile?" making her way out into the cold streets wondering how Rachel was getting along with that skirt, though she could tell by the nearly blue lips that she was handling it just fine.

"He's just trying to help, unlike you he probably doesn't take joy in my misery"

"Yes, he does, he just cant let you know. Otherwise how else are you going to sleep with him?"

"Oh my God Monica, that's gross he's way to old for me, you know my age limit is no more than three years. And he's like what? 33? Plus he's my boss and you just ... get way to much joy from my misery" She said watching as Monica fought to hold back her smile.

"What are friends for?"

She forced a fake laugh

Gunther appeared outside, "Um, Rachel, your friend can't go with you."

Monica glared at him "We know this. Hurry your ass up." pushing passed him she hurried back into the warmth of the coffee house.

The cold bit at her from every direction as she hurried through the park as quickly as she could without losing control and toppling over with the tray. As if it wasn't cold enough, every jogger that ran by was followed by a gust of wind, sending chills through her.

She felt like she had been walking for hours before she spotted the set. It was pretty big for an indie, too big. Most of it was still hidden by the landscape, all that was visible were towering lights cords littering every inch of the ground and about 50 techies running yelling frantic things ripping strings of film out of countless cameras.

"Wow" was all she could say, she was in awe at the sight of this monstrous set she could only imagine what kind of movie stars were hidden in this labyrinth and could only imagine what they were seeing, this geeky little teenage girl totting their coffees almost an hour late staring with her mouth gaping open just like ... dear god just like a fan!

So she tore her eyes off the sight playing it cool, hoping to not frighten anyone away by being too starstruck. Instead of a movie set she saw the ground, studying the thousands of little rocks that made up the sidewalk, hearing the sounds her heals made against the tiny grains, and watching as the grass struggled to grow between the cracks of the stones.

She looked up just in time to see him coming right at her. With only second before impact, she braced herself for disaster. Coffee and muffins flew in every direction possible, spilling all over. Shit.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Not a lot of things in life make sense, and at the moment of impact you really don't look outside yourself at the situation and for one moment think that this one action will lead to the destruction and recreation of so many other things. just like the domino effect, it touches every part of you until it becomes you. maybe you want it maybe your life is searching for something to save you ... or maybe its looking for something to destroy you. either way there it is whether you like it or not, whether you want it or need it or have it or feel it. its real, even if you don't talk about it" She said flashing a look to Monica lost in her look of reminiscence you could only find on the face of a holocaust survivor "Someday you have to face it or that day it will face you with the shine and sharpness of a blade, with the smoke and fire of drugs, with an act of adultery. Its you. and it hurts everyone around you. Maybe it hurts them more than you ... but you don't have time to care. No matter what happens, you always feel the pleasure before the pain."

He seemed to be lost in her words, like one can get lost in another's painful poetry. Though the words took their toll on Monica he didn't want her to stop speaking. Forgetting he was on an assignment. Letting himself fall into her voice, forgetting even that there were more people around than the two of them.

The only thing to penetrate the perfect little world he imagined them in, was a thick cloud of smoke and a look from Monica that he swore could kill, furiously stamping out her cigarette and lighting another. They both turned to look at her.

"I'm sorry Monica would you like to add something?" noting how quickly her cigarettes were disappearing, wondering if she were lost in her own little world as well.

"Nope that's pretty much the gist" Her deadly gaze still burning holes in him.

"Alright so we're at the meeting, tell me how did it go?"

"It wasn't the most ideal way you could possibly make your first impression, because they do as we say 'last forever' it wasn't me in all my glory but there it was. Him covered in coffee, me covered in coffee, and in a mini skirt, and in November. It was pure disaster plain and simple. It was all 'oh my god I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, here let me help you, oh my god I'm so sorry' And then of course he was a total sweetheart 'no its ok, it wasn't your fault, I should have been looking, don't worry about it' which made it worse in so many ways."

"And why does that make it worse. Wasn't he in a way trying to help you?" He would always squint when asking 'why' which drove Monica insane. It seemed like such a demeaning gesture in her head it was the equivalent of saying 'hmm are you sure you're not crazy?'.

"Yes, he was trying to help me, which made it worse because he was always helping me. That made it impossible to hate him later on, and trust me I wanted too." Pointing her cigarette at him as if catching him before he could imply that she never could 'hate'.

**Alright that's it for now. Let me know what you think.**

**Ash**


	2. chapter two

**Aiight. I got a few reviews saying this story was confusing, i'm hoping this chapter will clear some things up. It's basically Monica and Rachel telling a therapist about what happened between them, Chandler and Joey, and then it's what happened as it happens. The present and the past. I really hope that helps. this chap has no therapist convos.**

**If you must, flame till your hearts content, flames only fuel me.**

**F.R.I.E.N.D.S**

**Something I Can Never Have**

**Chapter Two**

"Oh my God, I am so sorry!" She frantically started mopping at the mess she had just splattered this stranger with, desperately trying to hold back tears of pure mortification. What if the celebrities were watching? This definitely cancels any chance at an invitation to a huge Hollywood party, if on the off chance they ever did decide to invite her ... hey it could happen. "Oh your shirt is ruined, I'm so sorry, I should've been watching better." She couldn't hold back the tears anymore. Pure embarrassment hits anyone's soft spot and it sent tiny rivers flowing from her eyes. Not only had she just drenched this man in coffee but she was now crying on him. If someone could produce a picture of this that would just make this the most perfect day!

"No, its ok ... you don't have to do that. Accidents happen" Oh he was so sweet. She had definitely ruined his GAP sweater, oh God shed' have to buy him a new one now. And its GAP, couldn't have been something cheap could it? Seriously someone take a picture. "I blame myself really, this kind of stuff happens to me all the time."

"I'm so sorry, oh god I'm so-" there was no more tears of embarrassment now. This was a sob fest. Poor guy.

"Hey.. no really its ok" He grabbed her shaky hands that were furiously trying to scrub at a huge streak of caramel macchiato running down his shirt which she was almost certain she was making worse. She couldn't look at him, grab the evidence and run Rachel. She dropped herself to the ground to pick up the mess almost bringing him and his hands down with her. The moment couldn't have been complete without more rambling of how sorry she was, and how this was all her fault. At least she stopped crying. Now all that was running down her face was mascara, lots and lots of it.

"Oh i am so sorry, I'll buy you a new shirt i swear i will, and and- no really you don't have to do that i can get it"

"Well, I helped make this mess, least I could do is help you clean it up." Something about the way he spoke made her comfortable, almost as if she knew him. She could see in his sunglasses something familiar ... kind of weird for someone to be wearing sunglasses and a hat on the dreariest day in mid November ... "You work for Central Perk?" He said laying the nasty filthy napkin back on her tray.

"What? Oh yeah I do. I was coming out here to bring some of the crew their coffee and I'm already over an hour late." She willed him to take his glasses off, she knew if she saw the eyes she'd know him.

He slid his hat off to run a nervous hand through his hair. "Well, I know a lot of people who have been looking for you" He shot her a smile and replaced his hat. "And this" He said motioning to the massive stain on his sweater. "And .. that" Her eyes fell to the muffins smashed now apart of the tiny pebbles. She listened to him laugh to the tone in his voice.

"Oh my God. I really- I really have to go now." She forced out, fumbling to her feet balancing the tray. She turned her back to him in time to feel him grip her arm causing her tray to topple.

"Wait"

"I'm sorry Chandler I just have to- " She realized what she had said when his warm smile faded and his hand dropped from her arm.

Nothing more could have been said to help that situation. She left him standing stained and in a daze, with the mess of Central Perk at his feet.

"What the fuck Chandler that was my favorite shirt you dick! 'Don't worry Joe you can trust me, I wont mess it up' What the hell is this! Please tell me this isn't coffee, Oh my God blueberries don't come out!" He sat like a child being scolded by his mother for getting his school clothes dirty. Watching wondering if he truly was witnessing a grown man attempting to chew the blueberry stain out of his sweater. Yes, he was indeed seeing him trying to suck the coffee out. "You better pray pretreating this will work!"

He couldn't decide whether to find this hysterical or disgusting. "It wasn't my fault, i went looking for the coffee girl" fending off Joey's evil stare when the word coffee was spoken "and well good news i found her"

"You ran into the coffee girl? That's your excuse? That's possibly the worst fucking excuse you've ever come up with."

"Look," digging in his pocket, pulling out a brown speckled napkin. "She dropped this when she ran off, she works for Central Perk."

Joey's glare became more intense. "Your evidence is a napkin? You used to be a lot better at this. Why don't you just admit you're a clumsy mother fucker, and you spilled it, so I can kick your ass and get this over with."

Shooting up out of his chair "I can prove it, the girl, she's probably still working, I'll show her to you."

"I'm sorry Rachel, you're the only one here today. I need you here."

"But Gunther, I've got dried coffee all over me, I'm frozen, and I really just don't think my fragile emotions can handle any more today" She turned her back from him pretending to cry. Crying always sealed the deal she'd be on her way home within minutes. One must always lay it on thick in this situation. Before she had time to hold her breath and conjure up some convincingly real tears Monica came bolting through the door.

Not even seeing the stained up distrot Rachel standing there with obviously fake tears welling up in her eyes, which disappeared the second they made eye contact. It became as if he weren't even there, what was supposed to be her tears of "fragile emotions" turned into an animalistic squeal , and neither he or Monica could decipher if it was a squeal of delight or terror.

"OH MY GOD MONICA!" she scrambled past the counter, past a very confused Gunther, past about 12 startled customers, and up to an impatient Monica.

"Dont say a word Rachel i came for my phone" she looks to her phone to be sure of the number of missed calls. Looking not once but twice, to add extra affect of corse "yep i was right, im actually so popular ive missed no phone calls. Figures, who wants to call the Central Perk groupie to go out? No no she's too busy polluting her social life by waiting around forever on Rachel Greene to once in her life acctually arrive when she says shes going too. Nope no one i know wants to go out with that girl." As if her little outburst had drained her of any remaining energy she fell down on the big couch putting her head in her hands breathing as if she had just run a marathon.

"I just need a cigarette, I need a cigarette, it'll all be ok when I get my cigarette." Rachel had black mailed her into quitting smoking to which she always had the argument of 'i dont smoke too much, you smoke too little'. If she wanted her secret to remain a secret she had to comply. The worst part was, Rachel had possesion of the very pack that she desperatly needed. Her every desire at that moment was to embrace that pack in her hands, rip it open and smoke every single cigarette inside.

With hurt feelings Rachel let herself drop on the couch too, clutching Monica's cigarettes, in a lose fist. "You don't even want to hear about what happened to me in the Park do you?"

"Did you get coffee on my cigarettes?!" frantically looking from the coffee spots on the pack to Rachel. "They could be wet!"

Suddenly the tears she was trying to purge on Gunther started to appear, she watched Monica cave at the sight of her fake puddles. "Look at me, i look like i was mugged!"

"Oh my god were you mugged!" she said, really needing that cigarette now. And noticing the coffee stains, runny mascara stains, genuine stains none of that fake shit she uses on Gunther, poor sap how could he fall for that? What a loser. And finally seeing the dirty knees. My god her friend had been mugged, and all she was worried about was herself, this is what people must have meant when they said she was selfish.

"Well i couldve been mugged!"

"Jesus Rachel, you scared the hell out of me i thought you were- give me a cigarette" ehh being selfish wasnt so bad at times. Sometimes it was just plain necessary.

"No" squeazing the frail paper container in her hands watching Monica cringe at the thought of damaging her precious babies comfortably snuggled inside.

"Rachel... give me.. the cigarettes" it had been a stressful day. And she could kick her own ass for not grabbing a quick smoke while Rachel was getting fake mugged, with her fake tears, and ... and ... her fake nose! " GIVE IT TO ME!" ... and she didnt even care that people were staring.

"If I let you have half of one, half. Will you please listen to my story?"

Her eyes never left the wrinkled pack in Rachels hands, she knew she shouldve got a box instead of a soft pack, cursing her luck, she made a mental note to kick her own ass later ... but to smoke alot first. "You meen something did actually happen?"

"Honestly, youre too observant sometimes. You'll never believe it." finally giving in and tossing Monica the slightly smashed package. She walked back up to the counter to ring up a few customers and to at least pretend to be working, even though she knew Gunther didnt care either way what she did so long as he could stare at her in that perverted way that only 60 year olds could stare at her. Not that the skirt helped her situation any.

By the time she reached the counter Rachel noted that half of the cigarette was already gone. Monica sat down moments later, pack clutched in her hand lighting a new one.

"Jesus Christ."

"Don't start. Now, are you going to tell me what happened?"

By the time they reached the coffee house Joey was irate. It felt like 10 degrees outside, he was freezing, and some parts of a mans body just shouldnt be frozen. He knew Chandler was just trying to prolong getting his ass kicked.

"There she is, right there," pecking the glass, pointing to the girl who was standing behind the counter. "That's her."

"Niiice" letting himself for that moment forget about Chandler's execution to wrap his thoughts around her blonde hair and blue eyes "Wait. How do I know that's not some random girl," teeth chattering as he talked. Sighing Chandler grabbed the door. "What are you doing?"

Letting the door swing open causing a gust of warm air to penetrate all five layers of Joey's clothing. "Proving my innocence. Coming?"

"Hell no. And let a mob drag me away?" shaking his head "Dont think so. I hear one squeal and im outta here."

"Unbelievable" he said under his breath. Just as his nerves were catching him, what was he supposed to say to this girl?

**Please reveiw, whether you liked it or not.**

**Ash**


End file.
